A small smile
by flitz123
Summary: I almost missed the slight upturn of his lips as he continued writing on the parchment, almost. Dominique fic


_I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel._

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Dominique sat alone in the compartment. That was the way she wanted it.

Her legs propped up onto the seat and her shoulders rested against the bones of the leather seating, it was rather uncomfortable but it allowed her enough support for her to rest, perhaps the first time in a long while. The last few weeks of the summer had undergone constant stress, arguments and a guilty conscience, which of course is the reason she is taking a train to Scotland to finish her last two years of schooling.

Bill had become quite ill at the start of her last school year, life threateningly so, forcing Dominique to come home for the first time in 3 years, even before her visits were sparse. She spent most of her time in the South of France with her mother's parents, the overwhelmingly large family on her father's side being forgotten as she moved there to attend school, with the rest of her immediate family in London.

Although her parents often visited her, Louis and Victoire chose to give her the cold shoulder, and upon meeting them she became quite shocked at how much she had missed. Victoire was no longer the 16 year old who was teetering on adulthood, she was now 21 with a large wedding ring placed firmly on her left hand, her bosoms and hips proportionate to the ring with her waist the size of a coin, long silky hair and the warmth of their dad's eyes reflecting back coldly at her as they met.

Louis had merely been 8 when she had last seen him, with teeth missing and a playful childlike glimmer to his face, he had now grown into a tall 12 year old with the handsome looks of their father, his height just under Dominique's. She was again met with an unfriendly gesture, merely a nod of acknowledgement as he went to go take her bags to the upstairs room that had been dormant for many years, the whole affair a formality for her siblings.

It was these thoughts again that kept Dominique up, avoiding sleep as usual, but at least she wasn't being met with accusative stares, just the memory of them.

She decided she wasn't able to rest and sat up, her eyes travelling along the fields of the Scottish countryside, the endless green patches secluded and empty. The excitement nothing compared to what she felt when she went back to Beauxbatons, with the carriages and silk white horses attending at a each students doorstep, before whisking them away to their school instantly. This trip was a lot more tedious, slow and tense.

She knew it was inevitable for her to come to Hogwarts at some point, but she had tried her hardest to avoid the whole ordeal, she had done a considerable amount of tantrums and fits to be able to go to the French school instead, and nobody understood why.

She didn't want to be so known in the school, coming from the family she did, biographies and stories and photos, they had all become too overbearing the first few years, and she knew Hogwarts only solidified the reputation of a Weasley. She refused to be in her sister's shadow especially as she learnt Victoire had become a prefect the summer she was meant to go to Hogwarts, it was another family member becoming something Dominique knew she wouldn't ever be, great.

She began to hate Hogwarts with a passion, and it hadn't dissipated to this day.

She much preferred her mother's family, with the exception of her uncle Charlie, but she had only seen him in occasion when he had been travelling France with his family, who he only just begun as he wanted the bachelor's lifestyle for as long as he could manage, the stories entailing providing Dominique with hearty laughs that she needed when things became too frosty between her and her family.

"Anything off the trolley dear?"

The voice snapping her tired eyes open.

The lady asking looked rather haggard, with a round figure, crooked yellow teeth and wiry hair that coated her sagging forehead, she was quick to shake her head at the woman. You wouldn't see people like her in Beauxbatons.

The woman walked on, and asked along the train, everything here seemed a bit too cosy and rugged.

BOOM.

The noise sounded across the train, followed by snickers and the distinct moan of Albus Potter.

Dominique couldn't help but roll her eyes at her cousins who continued their game of exploding snap and noisy pranks across the train.

This was another reason she didn't want to be associated with her family, taking on Delacour as her last name instead at her schools, although France wasn't as involved with the war as Britain had been, it caused enough of an uproar that she knew she would be recognised even in France.

Her door slid open to find Rose Weasley looking rather nervous as she stared at her feet.

"Yes?" Dominique asked, fairly aware of how the rest of the family felt about her, a complete stranger.

"We're about to reach Hogwarts, I was just going to say that you should probably get changed into your robes," Rose said, glancing in and out of eye contact with Dominique.

"Of course," she answered, ' _I cannot last a term at this school'_ she thought bitterly.

"Oh, and- uh- I'm here if you need any help," she said it so quickly, Dominique almost missed it, her English not as confident due to her life in France.

"Thank you," she said back.

Dominique liked Rose, she did, but she was determined to keep them all at an arm's distance.

* * *

The last 1st year got sorted into their house, with Dominique stood quietly at the sidelines, her cousins Lily and Hugo finding themselves sorted into Gryffindor.

The many students looked down to their tables, confused as to why the food had not appeared yet, their attention snapping up as Mcgonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"We have a transfer student from Beauxbatons academy, she is in her 7th year and I expect you to treat her with as much respect as you show to each other and welcome her to the school."

There was a pause before she read her name, a little falter, "W-Delacour, Dominque."

Dominique saw the slight crease in Mcgonagall's brows as she read her surname, as well as the confused reaction of her family with the exception of Louis who simply rolled his eyes, resembling herself much more than she thought.

Regardless of the reaction, she rose from her still position towards the stool, where the worn, dusty hat was to be placed on her head.

She was aware of everyone's intense scrutiny of her, but she merely brushed it off. She never really had time to incur what house she would have been placed in or wanted to be placed in, at this point she didn't mind Slytherin, anything to be separate from her family, but that wasn't happening as the hat croaked a loud,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

 _Obviously._

She sighed as the hall clapped politely, watching how Rose patted on an open space next to her, she felt bad for ignoring her as she made her way to the end of the table rather than the middle where most of the Weasley's were situated, but she squashed those feelings as she sat, avoiding eye contact with Rose who know looked more than a little dejected.

Platters decorated the long tables with; chickens, potatoes, gravy, corn, chips, fish and everything that could possibly exist in an English household, and even she had to admit that the food looked appetising in contrast to traditional French soups and breads.

She examined the school, decorated in burgundy tones and gold embellishments, almost as if catering to Gryffindor students. The teachers sat at the front, eating in front of the students and drinking rum whilst we drank pumpkin juice. Some she recognised, like Neville and Hagrid, some familiar from the stories Victoire used to tell her about Hogwarts and others she couldn't quite place a name to.

The professor at the end she was completely sure of, Draco Malfoy. His once blonde hair which she recognised her uncle Harry describing as well as the pointed angular features that were written in the biography of the pre-war Harry Potter, written by Rita Skeeter. His manners impeccable as he took in small bites on his knife and fork of the turkey wings before putting them down and calmly meeting my stare, sensing me immediately.

She challenged his gaze, refusing to look down, but he did, and she felt immediately felt embarrassed about her childishness. A staring competition was hardly something you did with a professor.

* * *

Once dinner was over she quickly found herself in a predicament, she didn't know where to go, which she knew left her with only one option.

She saw the last of her cousins leaving the hall and was quick to run after him.

"Fred!" she called in her desperation.

It caused her to turn around and stare directly at her, but then he began walking away.

"Wait!"

She saw him heave a sigh and stare at her despondently, quite the opposite of the boisterous fun he usually had been.

"What?" he asked impatiently, almost wanting to run away from her presence as urgently as he could.

"I don't quite know where to go," her tone more demanding than she thought it was.

"Fine."

With that he began walking and she followed, attempting to keep level with his pace, but she knew he was trying to keep a distance between them.

As her foot fell to place itself on the next step, she found nothing solid underneath and rather dragged her whole body to be swallowed beneath the staircase.

Trick step.

From the little peep hole she was allowed to see through she watched as Fred debated on whether to help me or not, she swallowed down all her feelings, making sure not to let them get the best of her.

Fred eventually bent his knees and whispered an incantation to open up the stairs before grabbing her hands and pulling her out harsher than she expected. She whispered a feeble,"Thanks," and got up to follow him again.

As far as she had known she never did anything bad to Fred, so why was he acting like this? As they neared what she assumed was the Gryffindor entrance from what she remembered Victoire had said about the portraits, she made sure to question him about it.

"Why are you acting so rude?" she inquired to him, slicing the thick silence in half causing light blue eyes to snap towards hers.

"Dominique, do you really not know?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Rose had been trying so hard to make sure you were comfortable this whole summer and you have done nothing but stare at her as if she was vermin. Not just this summer, we have tried so hard with you the past 4 years, grandma and grandpa send you endless letters and you never reply, not even once. You don't visit us during the holidays and you don't speak to your parents. Do you want to know why Uncle Bill was sick?"

She tensed her jaw, her silence being taken as a yes.

"He was sick because of you. There were raids in Paris last year with dark wizards infiltrating France from Switzerland, the school probably didn't tell you because they didn't want to worry the kids. He was so scared that something was going to happen to you that he organised a trip to Switzerland himself and took a group of Aurors with him him to get rid of any sort of threat in Paris happening. Do you know what happened?"

 _No_

"They held uncle Bill captive for two months. They put the cruciatus curse on him, and tortured him till he wasn't able to walk. He just wanted to know if his little girl was safe, risked his own life to the extent of paralysis and potential death for you and you, Dominique, never even opened his letters."

With that he climbed into the portrait hole leaving her.

 _It was my fault_

 _It was my fault_

 _It was my f-fault._

Everything went a little hazy, his words effecting her greatly as her knees gave out and collapsed underneath her, body sliding against the brick walls before falling onto the cold flooring.

The last thing she remembered is a figure coming towards her.

* * *

Author's note.

I know this is a crackship, but I am a massive fan of Draco and thought the whole Dominique storyline could be interesting. I feel like she would be the one under pressure by the whole fame thing, especially with Victoire and the legacy her last name had as well as her mother being so prominent in Beauxbatons.

REVIEW!

xx

Sofia


End file.
